The Most Powerful Stories Are the Ones We’re Afraid to Tell
How after a lifetime of hiding behind the lens, this filmmaker turned the camera inward and found voice worth sharing
He was twelve when his father died, and everything he thought he knew about safety shattered.
Years later, storytelling became the way he pieced it all back together; first behind the camera, now on the page.
Meet
Q: What's the story behind your Substack?
My Substack is a culmination of everything I have learned (and still continue to learn) about storytelling, connection, and transformation.
It is not just a platform for my writing; it is the intersection of all the different parts of my life as a writer, filmmaker, coach, and human being trying to make sense of the world.
Writing has always been an essential part of my life. Long before I picked up a camera, I was scribbling in notebooks, trying to capture the world around me in words.
Writing is how I discovered my voice. It was my first creative outlet, and from there, filmmaking was a natural progression. I trained as a filmmaker, spending years learning how to craft stories that would move people to their core.
It started with fiction, working on narratives that were big, bold, and cinematic. But over time, I found myself being drawn to something rawer. Something real. Documentary storytelling allowed me to capture humanity in all its messy, beautiful complexity. From the vulnerability of the people I met to the breathtaking landscapes I filmed, documentary storytelling taught me how to capture and share the world around me with audiences. I wanted to show people parts of the world and of themselves they might not have seen otherwise.
In my article “Dreams in Motion,” I talked about the power of storytelling as an experience, not just something to watch but to feel. It’s a way to show everyone the struggles and realities of different people so they can remember they are not alone in their struggles. That is the power of storytelling, whether it’s on-screen or off. Stories have the power to connect people, move them to action, and make the invisible visible.
But for me, filmmaking was not the end of the journey; it was the beginning.
I found myself traveling the world, learning new languages, and immersing myself in new cultures. One day, it hit me that storytelling was not just about observing the world around me, but about being a part of it.
This was when I started pursuing coaching. It was a chance for me to combine my love of storytelling with my desire to connect with people on a deeper level.
The people who come to me for coaching believe that their story is not good enough or that they do not know how to tell, change, or rewrite it. But once we work together, they see that it is their most important tool in their lives.
Through coaching I help people discover their story, leave behind the ones that hold them back, and amplify the ones that will move them forward.
That is what my Substack is all about. It is a place to share the stories of my life, connect with others, and hopefully inspire people to share their stories. We are wired for connection. It is how we learn and how we grow. Storytelling is a powerful force for change, but only if we share it. I hope to continue to use my Substack to share these stories and inspire others to share theirs.
Q: Publishing is just the beginning. What's the most courageous creative or personal risk you've taken since starting your Substack—something that pushed you far beyond your comfort zone?
The biggest creative risk that I’ve made on Substack? Being this vulnerable. This raw. This naked. Most people can’t handle this. So they stick to safe stuff and fear sharing their messy, real selves. Not me. I’m turning it on its head.
I’ve realized the key is balancing vulnerability and boundaries. It’s not about over-sharing, it’s about owning your story, so other people can own theirs. Vulnerability creates trust and trust is the foundation for community and connection.
I’m not just publishing content. I’m building a movement, one raw, honest interaction at a time. When I published “The Stories We Hide: Why Vulnerability Is The Ultimate Superpower”, I bared my soul. I wrote about my dad’s suicide when I was 12. About the gaping hole inside me. About the 15 years of therapy and unraveling to figure out the difference between grief and shame. This is the story of who I am.
And sharing it? That was terrifying. Brutal. And after I’d hit publish and send that out into the world? People didn’t just read it. They felt it. They saw themselves in it. They messaged me, shared their stories, and sent this ripple of connection and healing out. That’s the power of vulnerability. It’s not just sharing your own story. It’s about allowing other people to tell theirs. Creating a space where people feel seen, heard, understood.
Every time I share something that terrifies me, I know I’m walking the walk. Courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s showing up terrified and doing it anyway.
And it’s not just the big, dramatic stories either. It’s the small ones, the everyday ones. The quiet wins. The messy lessons. These are the stories that let people know they’re not alone. These are the stories I’m committed to sharing, no matter how uncomfortable it gets.
Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s the ultimate superpower. This is the foundation of my work today. Helping clients see their own story clearly, so they can take the steps that terrify them but will set them free. Vulnerability builds trust. Trust builds connection. Connection transforms everything.
Q: The blank page can feel like a judgment waiting to happen. For those writers sitting on the sidelines, paralyzed by the fear of criticism or failure, what would you say to help them take that first brave step into sharing their authentic voice?
The blank page isn’t your enemy. The blank page is a mirror. Sure, it’s scary. It’s like staring into the void, waiting for it to judge you. But here’s the thing: judgment only has power if you give it power.
Stop chasing perfection. It’s a myth that’ll freeze you in place every time. Start messy. Write with reckless abandon because at first, it doesn’t matter. Because at first no one is reading. Because at first you’ve got nothing to lose.
Fear? It’s always there. The trick is to dance with it, not fight it. “What you fear but don’t face controls you. What you fear and take steps to face, you control.” Write one sentence. A messy, imperfect one. Then another. And another. Momentum builds from there. That’s where the magic is. Anything worth doing is worth doing poorly at first. The world doesn’t need your silence. It needs your voice.
Q: Reading can be passive, but transformation requires action. What's the most courageous step you believe a reader can take after being moved by something you've written?
What do you do when something I write inspires you? Reach out to me. Really. Stop staring at your computer, get off your phone. Do something with the wonderful experiences and sensations I know my writing can give you. Share with me how it touched you, ask me a question or tell me I’m wrong (because everyone needs to hear that now and then). That’s where it starts: in that space between us where everything matters.
Change can’t take place in a vacuum, it has to be in conversation with the world around us. I’m in a relationship with you.
So, if something I write moves you or speaks to you, let me know. Contact me. Don’t let this just end. Keep it rolling. There is nothing so powerful in this world as a million true conversations, each one of them leading a movement.
The most powerful act a reader can do for a writer is to take that which they loved and tell them about it, share it. Take what you need, pass on the excess, and then we’ll all go out and do something important together.
Life isn’t about ideas or concepts, it’s about output. We take what speaks to us and we MAKE it real.
A lot of my work is just reflecting back to you what you already know, but as you know it’s the actions we take in our lives that are truly life changing.
Q: There's a fine line between authentic vulnerability and emotional exhibitionism in public writing. How do you navigate sharing your truth while protecting your inner sanctuary?
Vulnerability vs. oversharing – where do you draw the line? It’s about selective openness—sharing with intention, not just spilling your guts to anyone who’ll listen.
Authentic connection does not require you to reveal every aspect of your life story. It does not mean writing a book, sharing it with anyone, and then leaving the room for a mic drop. Not everyone is worthy of a front row seat to your life, your fears, and your dreams. Sharing vulnerably means being authentic and not reckless with what you choose to share. Vulnerability is not oversharing.
You do not have to share your life story with everyone. You do not have to let anyone in. It's OK to guard your energy and maintain control of your narrative.
Setting boundaries is the smart way to remain authentic without giving too much of yourself away. It helps you stay grounded and true to yourself.
Let’s not forget, however, that connection also begins with self-acceptance. If you’re not secure in who you are, you will overshare to validate who you are, and you will likely end up feeling more alone. Connection with others begins with you.
Vulnerability without boundaries is not brave, but insecure. Be selective about what, when, and with whom you share. Vulnerability does not mean complete transparency. It can help you create connection with the right people at the right time and for the right reasons.
It also means knowing when to keep things to yourself. Mystery is attractive. People connect with realness, not perfection. You can be vulnerable and still keep your magic intact. You can own your story without giving up the power of your narrative.
Q: Every meaningful piece of writing contains an element of risk—whether it's challenging popular opinion, revealing personal truths, or exploring uncharted territory. What's the biggest creative or personal risk you've taken through your writing, and how did it change you?
If I had to guess, one of those moments is probably this interview with you here!
At a deep level, all of us fear being unmasked, especially those of us who present confident and accomplished fronts to the world.
We all have this dread that our masks will fall.
The greatest risk I take in my writing is dropping my mask. I put myself out there in ways that make me feel vulnerable. Especially, when I decide to share my personal stories of failure, shame and grief. I use my own life as the subject of my stories, things that were touching, private, and, at times, extremely complicated.
Was I afraid it would open me to criticism or judgment? Sure. Would I back away from this approach in the future? Absolutely not. I’m more certain than ever that the willingness to be vulnerable is the greatest creative risk any of us can take.
Masks can keep us safe. But they can also cage us. They are protective, yes. But they also make us feel small and isolated. When I began writing honestly about my own challenges in grieving, during my divorce, my mother’s cancer journey and death, and my own life lessons, I felt exposed, yes, but I also felt powerful in a way I never had before.
I began to understand that a mask is a story that limits us, a thin veneer we put on to survive and avoid being hurt, and that letting go of it can be transformative.
There is something inside of you that longs to be set free. At first it can be scary to tell your truth, and the greater the story, the more fear there can be. But starting with one small thing—a story, a secret, a fear—will open the door for you. Say something you have been keeping inside to someone you trust, and begin the process. You will be surprised at how freeing it can be not only for you, but also for the people around you.
Vulnerability is inspiring. If you have ever found yourself relating to a book or movie character so deeply that you felt a profound connection to a stranger, you know the power of vulnerability. It can change your life.
Q: Reinvention requires dismantling the comfortable cage of who we used to be. For established professionals or thought leaders feeling trapped by their own success but afraid to evolve, what wisdom would you offer about the courage required to start over?
Reinvention is, without a doubt, terrifying. Discomfort is lurking around every corner. It’s not for the faint-hearted. But, truth be told, so is staying in the “comfortable cage” you’re in.
When your heart and soul ache, the familiar is no longer your friend. I know, I know, you’re thinking change and reinvention just sounds like throwing everything away and that is scary. But here’s the thing, reinvention isn’t burning down your house. It’s building on what you know. It’s taking your expertise and allowing that to help you grow.
You are not starting over, you are starting with knowledge and experience. Fear is uncomfortable. And courage is being scared shitless and doing it anyway. The scariest things, more often than not, are the things that set you free.
What is one thing you can do today to move closer to the life you want? Reinvention isn’t a single moment, it’s a decision you make over and over again. The daily choices to live the life you want to live in the future. So, make that choice today. The cage isn’t as safe as you think it is.
Q: If you could sit across from yourself on the day before you published your first piece, knowing everything you know now about this journey, what essential truth would you share?
Simplify it. Truly. Your first piece of work? Perfect? No. Published? Yes. You will embarrass yourself. You will hate things you have written when you look back on them. That is completely fine! You cannot progress without taking those risks and putting yourself out there.
Because here is the thing: the work you fear sharing, the things you fear writing down? Yes, people need to hear those. Be vulnerable, my friend. Have faith in yourself. Hit publish and learn. Let the journey teach you.
Oh, and if you want to make this process a hell of a lot easier, check out my coaching. It’s all about making your life, and your business easier, more aligned and much more fun. Because why settle for anything less?
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way of being, subscribe and reach out! He would love to hear from you.
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Magdalena - Thank you for sharing another amazing set of questions, and thus interview, answered by another amazing person. Andy, I knew there was something I rather liked about you the first time I read a note and or response to a note you had written. I remember a feeling of not exactly knowing why and wanting to know more about this person and why this particular feeling was welling up inside me. So, I went and did some investigating.
And now reading a bit more about you and your writing journey herein allows me a better understanding of what I was catching sight of within myself that I did not fully understand even after I did some digging. It shows me once again that we humans can have all the outside facts and answers, so to speak, but until we hear it from the inside of the person writing the words - a good deal of connection to our understanding can be akin to looking in a foggy mirror.
I found this story inspiring and educational for me. I also use vulnerability in my storytelling and try to find the balance you advised. Thank you for informing us.